


Riddles

by KangaRou



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 2nd Person, F/M, No mexico though, No time Rou, Nogitsune AU, Not really a werewolf, Not that I can't write sex, Nothing more than is in show in terms of sex, Overdone Plot, Some swear words, Stalia, Tagging isn't my strong suit, Totally would if I had time, Werething, Werewolf-stiles, canon character death, follows cannon, nothing smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3154997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KangaRou/pseuds/KangaRou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Nogitsune was killed, a part of Stiles was changed because of that stupid bite. The difference is, it's not doing much but screwing up his life. It's a gift, but a gift with a crappy refund policy.</p><p>(Written in 2nd Person)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riddles

Becoming a werewolf has done nothing for you. You’re still the same (well, slightly less) hyperactive, weak, and pathetic teenager; except now your eyes glow blue and once a month you have blackouts. Deaton tried to explain your lack of ‘transformation’, strength, and healing ability even though you’re meant to be a werewolf. None of what he said sounded feasible, delayed transformation, unwillingness to transform, and lack of anchor were mentioned, but the only case you had that was similar to yours was Jackson. Scott assured you that you weren’t turning into a weird lizard man on the full moon, even if no one could actually find you on a full moon. Peter had made a joke about you just being a ‘were-human’ and Lydia had punched him on your behalf.

You were pretty sure it had to do with the power that came with being a werewolf. You shouldn’t ever have power. Power had always scared you, and since the Nogitsune it had downright terrified you. If you could trust your own judgement here, you’d say that it was your subconscious locking the powers down. Not that you’re complaining, because wolfiness is overrated, right?

One thing you keep playing over in your mind was ‘The shape you take reflects the person you are’, so what kind of person are you Stiles? You’re witty (sarcastic at best), smart enough to get away with anything, and you used to play the occasional trick. If you didn’t know better, you’d say you were a werefox, but they have another name and you’re pretty sure you don’t have any Japanese ancestors.

You kick the wall and immediately regret, jumping up and down clutching your foot. Stupid Nogitsune, ruining your life, confined to your room causing you to break your foot.

“You alright up there, Stiles?” You hear someone call from downstairs, probably Derek or someone who doesn’t have other priorities.

“Yes.” You call back hoarsely, voice cracking for lack of use and you sit down heavily on the bed. Derek doesn’t push the issue, and that makes you thankful. You wish they’d let you go to school, or do anything, but you’re practically a ticking time bomb, so you let the people at school believe you have mono and stay in your room.

Except for on full moons, where you disappear from everyone sight. You don’t know where you go; you just know where you wake up. Naked, curled up next to Allison’s grave, covered in dirt. Even remembering her death causes your heart to tighten and you know your eyes are glowing blue from the pain. It’s the only time your eyes actually glow to give you the confirmation that yes, you have been bitten by a werewolf.

The only plus side to the situation is that you know that no more people are dying because of you, no death reports come in on full moon nights. People have died because of you though, the _Nogitsune_ , you remind yourself. You go to punch something but stop yourself. Growling lightly, you stand up and hobble to the bathroom.

Stupid life, stupid non-wolfiness, and stupid lack of healing ability. You sit on the toilet and grab the first aid kit to begin wrapping your foot. Luckily you don’t bother with clothes much anymore, a t-shirt and boxers are as much as you do on a normal day. Full moons you walk around naked.

There is a bruise already forming on your foot, from your big toe arching up till about halfway up the foot. You let out a sigh and curse that stupid Nogitsune again. Once your foot is successfully wrapped you head downstairs to face the music and let Derek know that you have yet again done the impossibly stupid.

“You’re so stupid.” Derek says when you enter the kitchen, looking you up and down, eyes landing on your foot, “How did you do that?”

You shrug and walk to get some milk out of the fridge, “I kicked the wall.” Derek nods silently, watching you tentatively as you pour your glass. “You can stop watching me like I’m about to explode you know.”

“But you are about to explode, Stiles, it’s a matter of time.” He says like it’s a fact, which it is, but you wish it wasn’t. “There’s a full moon tonight.” He tells you, and you just nod.

You know, well, you didn’t, but you know now. Every other ‘werething’ gets this itchiness beneath their skin. You just have this weird tingling in your penis now, and you’re pretty sure it’s cause you haven’t masturbated since yesterday. You should probably get on that, and you go to excuse yourself from Derek’s lovely company but he seems to sense your intentions and stops you.

He lets out a sigh, “Look, Stiles,” Oh no, that sounded serious, is Derek about to have a serious conversation, “do you want me to help?” With your masturbation, sure, go for it. It’s been a while since you got any, like, last time you had it was when you were being possessed by an evil spirit, and that was also your first. It takes you a second of looking at Derek before you realise that’s not what he meant.

“No thank you.” You say simply and walk away. You don’t need help with werewolf issues if you’re not a werewolf. But Derek doesn’t seem to take no for an answer, and he’s in your room before you get there.

“You smell of sadness, Stiles, I want to help.” He says forcefully, sitting down on the bed.

“What’s the point of asking if you’re just going to force me anyway?” You say irritably, “Like, did the etiquette of permission get missed in your wolfy genes, did they replace consent with ‘irresistible to ladies’ because I’m getting that sense.”

Derek just smiles and pats the spot on the bed next to him, which causes to feel even more irritable, “Oh, inviting me to sit on my own bed. That’s lovely, what’s next? Are we going to have stupid wolfy hugs where we talk about our wolfy feelings?”

Derek tilts his head to the side and smiles devilishly, “You keep saying the word wolfy, like it’s an insult, is someone bitter?”

“Bitter? Bitter doesn’t even cover it. I’m furious; I’m going insane trapped in my own house like a prisoner, with nothing to do. I’m supposed to be turning into some big bad wolf any moment now, but can’t seem to feel anything. My foot is broken, because sometimes I get so antsy I just punch things. One of my best friends is dead, my best friend’s boyfriend is dead all because of me. And I have an arsehole babysitting me who seems to be trying to be my therapist.” You’re shouting by the end of it and that’s when you realise this is exactly what Derek wanted. He’s still smiling wildly, and you’re breathing heavily and you know your eyes are glowing. You look down at the floor and turn around, “Go away, Derek,” you spit, “I don’t want your help.”

Derek pulls you to the bed and sits you down, and your stupid lack of strength means that you have no choice but to fall. “Your heart seemed to falter on the ‘I don’t want’.” He tilts your head up so he can look into your still glowing eyes, “Let people help you, Stiles.”

You shake your head, “You know Peter said something similar to me once, in a parking garage, after he kidnapped me.”

Derek chuckles, “You’re deflecting.” Oh, my, God, this guy was getting infuriating.

“And you’re smiling and laughing, excuse me if I’m not in a rush to pour my heart out to someone who seems to be bipolar today.” You say bitingly.

He suddenly pulls you close into a hug, holding you to his chest, and suddenly you can hear everything, the kettle downstairs which had been boiling for too long, the TV humming in standby, the next door neighbour playing on the lawn, the beat of his heart. You panic.

You struggle against Derek and manage to pull away, breathing heavily you fall backwards, it’s quiet again. You feel the urge to howl in fear and you bottle it down, you continue to back up until you’re against the wall, and you feel your body shaking like a trapped animal. You let out a quiet whine, and then you feel a hand, Derek’s on your arm and you see his concerned look.

He’s calling your name, you know he’s calling your name, but you only have one urge and that is to run. Everything in your sight begins to cloud and you feel your vocal cords strain and your legs start running before you’re no longer in control.

* * *

 

It’s funny how you never wanted the bite; you knew it would give you a power you couldn’t control. When Scott bit the other you, the _Nogitsune_ , the searing pain that went through your arm was enough confirmation for you. You’d been given the gift you never wanted, a gift with a really shitty refund policy. You don’t blame Scott though, cause he couldn’t have known, there was always a risk of something like this happening. At least you didn’t die, right?

Every time after the bite that Scott or Lydia hugged you, everything went into overdrive, and you’d quickly stopped allowing anyone to hug you or touch you for prolonged amounts of time. Derek’s hug and the night of a full moon were not factored into the equation of how much you could handle, there had been too much exposure and you’d panicked.

So when you woke up next to Allison’s grave, naked, again, the only thing you could do was mourn the lost masturbation time and those really nice cotton boxers. No need to get angry at Derek for something that he was so totally responsible for. You’d managed to always wake up before dawn, but you could tell from the sun that it was almost 8 am. You heaved a sigh and stood up, contemplating hiding your junk as you started the long run home.

You didn’t hide your junk, you ran with it on full display, with hopes that someone might call the Sheriff’s department to come collect you, to save you the extra forty minutes it would take. You’d take a public indecency charge if it meant getting home and showered quicker. Unluckily no one called the cops, which meant that when you got home you were left with a sneaky option.

Except that Scott opened the door just as you were sneaking past to get to your room and everyone was behind him. Best morning after full moon ever. Scott’s eyes widen in shock, and you just stand straight, while Isaac’s eyes flicker between your groin and your face.

Lydia ran forward to hug, and you took a step back. She seemed a bit affronted but seemed to understand.

“Out of the way guys, I want to shower and get dressed.” You say slowly, and everyone parts, but walks back into your house after you. Don’t they have school to go to? Derek walks into the entrance hall, looking at you confusedly, then motions to your foot, which appears to be completely healed, but otherwise doesn’t stop you from walking upstairs.

You manage to have your shower and get dressed in relative peace, and you know they’re all downstairs whispering about you. You know because that’s what they do, whisper when you’re not there to hear. Stupid Nogitsune.

When you get downstairs, Scott immediately hugs you. You try to pull away because you senses go into overdrive, but he just holds stronger. You try to ask a question but all that comes out are pants and whines, because you can’t stand how this is making you fell.

“Derek said this triggered you yesterday, and we’re going to do this here, in a controlled way, where you have four werewolves,” you hear Malia cough ‘werecoyote’ but Scott continues, “to hold you down, and stop you from running.”

You whine and growl, but just fall to the ground, Scott still holding you close. You can hear and smell how apprehensive Lydia is about this plan, whispering to Malia asking if it’s safe. Malia seems just as apprehensive but just says it’s okay to Lydia. You sense Derek, Isaac and Kira all watching you, like some spectacle. You growl, but this time more angrily. Why should they just watch you? The animal inside you start taking over, and you’re not sure you’re in control of your own body.

You hear Derek gulp, “Uh, guys, I think we should pin him down.”  You hear that and snap to look at him, growling lowly and you hear Lydia’s gasp of fear. Scott suddenly grabs both your arms and pushes you to the ground, and Isaac grabs you legs, you growl, snap and howl at them, but they don’t let up. Thrashing wildly, you get one leg free, to kick Isaac across the room, but Derek just replaces him, holding you down even tighter.

Like the trapped animal you are, you howl, loudly. Someone needs to help you; you panic and thrash even harder, because people are just watching you in pain. Red eyes flash at you, followed by a low demanding growl and you recoil and whimper. Shaking your head, you want to erase the sense of fear, but suddenly it’s getting worse and you’re terrified and howling and you’re sure that you’d be crying if you could. Whimpers and whines escape your throat and you can’t control it.

“Do something, Scott, you’ve scared him.” Lydia shouts at him.

Scott’s fumbling like an idiot, and he lets go of your arms, and you’re hugging again. He’s holding you close; cradling you like your life depends on it. He’s your alpha, and suddenly your brain is computing that you need him, and you cling to him. Another warm body encloses and the smell confirms it is Malia, and then Lydia and everyone’s encircling you. They smell warm and comforting, and you feel the fear melting and your features distorting until you’re plain, human, Stiles crying into your brother’s shoulder.

Everything’s still loud, and you want it all to stop. To stop right now, so you push Scott away and ignore his calls, even his alpha infused ones, and run. This time though, you know where you’re going.

* * *

 

If they know you’ve run to Deaton’s, they haven’t followed. You hate them. They forced you to change, and you hate it. It’s like two sides of his personality crash, and the other side always wins. When you reach Deaton’s, he lets you in, no question’s asked. He lets you sit in the corner all day, no matter if the customer’s enquire to your presence. He tells them to mind their own, and lets you wallow in self-pity all day. 

When Deaton shuts up the clinic, he goes about cleaning up, feeding animals, doing all the jobs that Scott would normally do, but he’s giving you space, so hasn’t come in today. It’s late into the evening, and you’re aware you’ve sat there for more hours than your body would normally allow. Deaton sits across from you and has a book which he reads, you stay like that for a few more hours, and the phone rings, but Deaton doesn’t make a move to answer.

“You’re soothing company, Stiles.” Deaton says his first words to you all day. He’s shut his book and put it on the floor next to him. You look up at him from your knees and just nod, not trusting your voice. He continues, “Do you want to explain to me?”

You nod, then shake your head, then nod again before letting out a frustrated whine. “For a boy with a hyperactivity disorder, you’ve sat still for an awfully long time.” Deaton states, matter-of-factly, ignoring your whine.

You finally manage to whisper, “I don’t want.”

Deaton nods, “People rarely do, but they rise to the challenge.”

“I don’t like challenges.” You reply.

“That’s not true though, is it?” Deaton hums, “You love challenges, that’s what being a detective is all about. The thrill of the challenge from a good mystery. You’re a mystery, Stiles.” You look into his eyes, which seem to be smiling, “A big, huge, mystery. A teenage boy, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”

You smile, “Did you just quote Doctor Who at me?”       

“Winston Churchill.” Deaton corrects, “I’m trying to say, you’re different to the other werewolves, Stiles, do you even know if you’re a wolf?”

“I howl.” You state, and Deaton just smiles at you.

“But that doesn’t make you a wolf; many animals howl at the moon, you need to find the right one.” Deaton says, “Maybe there wasn’t just a fox in you.” You go to question Deaton but he stands up and brushes himself off, “Go home and sleep, Stiles. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He holds the entrance open, a clear meaning to leave for now, and maybe you’d have your answers another day. You sigh, but leave none the less.

* * *

 

They don’t attempt another wolf-pile like that again; in fact, the only people talking to you are Lydia and Malia now. Scott hasn’t talked to you in a week, no one’s babysitting you, and you take this as a free license to go back to school. Lydia shouts at you and proceeds to hang up on you when you suggest the idea, but talks to you when you show up in the morning anyway.

Nobody seems to have made the connection between the strife, chaos and pain caused by the Nogitsune and you yet, so you think you’re pretty safe. When you walk into first period Math, Scott looks angry and Isaac shocked, but you take a seat behind Malia anyway. Focusing your mind on classes makes you feel good, better and happier, not like you’re losing your mind all over again.

At lunch, people try to shout at you, but you just eat your curly fries and let Lydia fight your battle for you, because you don’t have the patience to deal with it. Lacrosse practice is interesting, because Kira got on the team, why didn’t anyone tell you this? You don’t have the ability to use your powers, but still your aim has improved and your stamina is a lot better. So practice isn’t a complete failure.

* * *

 

The next full moon comes around, and you haven’t used (been forced) your ‘were-thing’ since the wolf-pile happened. The itchiness doesn’t happen again, and you resign yourself to another black out. You lie on your bed naked, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the sun to set. You let yourself fall asleep, to pass the time.

When you wake up, you don’t know what time it is, you’re not curled up in a grave yard. You look around, no, you’re in Deaton’s clinic, on the floor. You try to move, and find that something’s tied around your neck. You feel and find a collar and resist the urge to laugh darkly. Whoever’s sick idea this was is dead.

Deaton comes in a few hours later and looks at you in shock, before helping you out of the collar. You couldn’t find it in your will power to do it, and just submissively let him undo it, before curling up in a ball and crying when you’re free. Deaton just watches you, before disappearing and grabbing a blanket.

No customer’s show up to Deaton’s that day, it is a Saturday, maybe he doesn’t open on Saturday’s. Deaton does a few menial jobs, and then just sits across from you with a book again. When the sun starts setting, Deaton stands up.

“Stiles, only you can solve this riddle.” He tells you, holding the gate open again.

You walk through, spotting the lights of a car outside, “I hate riddles.” You say simply leaving the clinic.

* * *

 

Your dad is the one who came to pick you up, you understand your behaviour has been somewhat concerning. So his yelling is justified, you guess.

“-disappearing in the middle of the night, waking up naked, Deaton’s clinic and pushing away your friends. Seriously, Stiles, this has got to stop.” You’ve heard this particular rant about four times now, usually because you’ve run of with no sense of control, “It’s like, I’m losing you again, and I can’t do it again. I can’t have my whole life turned upside down. A-are you still possessed? Is there something more going on? I understand you’re upset, but is there anything I can do?”

You reply with your usual monosyllabic answer, “No.”

Your dad sighs, and replies with his usual, “If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”

You don’t reply to that, because you wouldn’t go to your dad. Not with this, this was your battle. The rest of the drive is silent, and when you get home, you get out and go to bed.

* * *

 

Sunday is dedicated to homework and Malia. You’re trying to teach Malia some history, math and whatever else she needs help with. She’s lying on her front on the bed, when she calls you over to try and help her with a specific question. You lean over to try and show her how to do it, when she pulls you down for a kiss. You don’t fight, you let her do it.

The kiss turns into making out, which turns into her straddling you, with both of your eyes glowing, while you pant sensually, you smirk and she glares at you with lust.

“I can’t be held accountable for my actions.” You tell her in-between pants.

Malia just pulls you up for another kiss and whispers into your ear, “I don’t want you to be.”

* * *

 

Waking up in the same bed as Malia, with no collar, no dirt, just you and her makes you feel centred. You feel as if your whole world just shifted, but you don’t let it affect how you act as you get up and ready for school. You shake Malia awake once you’ve pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and she smiles and sits up to give you a light kiss.

You smile and pull away, “School, Malia, we’ve got to go.”

She pouts, but gets up, using a hand to brush your crotch and you can’t help but let out a small moan, and she smirks, but otherwise gets ready to leave.

The car journey to school is slightly quiet, as you enjoy each other’s company, until Malia interrupts the silence.

“You’re not a wolf are you?” You almost jump at the sound of her voice, but keep your eyes on the road, “You’re something else, but not a wolf, not a coyote, what are you?”

“I have no idea, Malia.” You say quietly, pulling in to park at school. She just nods and jumps out the car, she gives you a chaste kiss and runs off to her classes.

“Did she just kiss you?” You hear from behind you, and immediately know it’s Lydia, “Are you two?”

You smirk and nod, “Since the asylum Lydia, I thought you were smart.”

She looks at you dumbfounded, but not disappointed, “I would have never guessed.”

* * *

 

When you get home, you spend about an hour pacing in front of the mirror. You want to know what you are, Deaton seems to know, you want to now. You start at the mirror, hold your breath, before letting out a grunt and punching the door. It dents beneath your hand, and you know that all of your supernatural power went into that punch. So you scream and punch again, and again, and again until you feel someone holding your arms stopping you from punching again.

It takes a second for you to recognise that it’s Malia who’s holding you close to her, telling you to calm down and breathe with her. You fall against her, the power evaporating, and she just holds you; holds you while you feel broken, couldn’t even get being a supernatural creature right.

She strokes you head and whispers soothing words into your ear, before picking you up and carrying you to the bed, “Do you want me to help?” You do nothing but nod; she smiles, and says, “On Saturday.”

* * *

Saturday doesn’t happen, because there’s been a murder, of a poor kid’s family and he’s the only survivor, and as usual people look to Stiles to try and figure it all out. Never mind that there are others plenty as capable as you, okay, well, Lydia was a very close second when it came to figuring everything out.

Oh, and there is some weird kid at Lacrosse practice who is showing definite were-thing ability. Scott is easily convinced to attempt to use his powers, and- the kid’s leg is broken. When you said ‘try to find out’ you didn’t mean kill the kid. You’re close to punching him, but at least he’s talking to you again, however minimally. 

You brush it off; tell him to fix it as the big bad alpha he is, and head home. This is not a mess you need. You then ignore Scott’s text later in the evening, for the favour of Malia’s attention.

Scott’s made a beta, and you want to punch him. “This pack is big enough.” You growl at him during lunch.

He just growls back, “I saved his life didn’t I?”

“You made a freaking IED into a werewolf, and there is a full moon coming. Don’t forget the mad hitman with a tomahawk running around murdering people.” You hiss. He starts to use his alpha eyes, but you stare him down, because seriously you don’t need this.

* * *

At Lydia’s Liam asks everyone what they are, “What about you?” He asks pointing at you.

“Well, for a little while I was possessed by an evil fox spirit.” You say, deflecting.

“What about now?”

“I run naked in the woods as an unidentified species.” You say simply. Malia bites her lip holding back her laughter, at Liam’s confused look.

To avoid talking anymore you just take hold of Malia’s hand and head down into the basement to prepare for the full moon. You hear them saying more students are showing up and tell Lydia she can throw the best parties, before asking her to lock them in. She bites her lip in concern, but you hear the door click shut and the key turn in the door.

Malia’s already struggling when you get back down, and while you’re no better, you can feel your eyes glowing and the blackout start, you focus your attention on Malia and pull it back from the edge.

“Hey, hey, Malia, focus.” She growls at you to get back, but you just step closer, “Listen to my voice, focus on me,” you stare into her eyes, both glowing the same blue, but her breathing starts to even out, “find an anchor.”

“I killed my own sister, I can’t, I don’t deserve.” You hold her face, “And I’m gonna kill you, don’t make me.”

“I know how you feel, look at me Malia, I know how you feel. Every single one of those people, the innocent people that died when the Nogistune was in control, I saw all of it, felt all of it, heck, I even enjoyed it a little. I know the guilt you feel, look at me.” You feel the blacking at the corner of your eyes, as she howls louder, “That wasn’t your fault, and I know you won’t kill me, just like I couldn’t kill you. You need to find an anchor, Malia.” 

The chains fall limp beside her and she falls against you softly, and you know she’s done it; she’s found an anchor and gained control. You allow your own change to happen, but Malia calls to you as its happening and rather than blacking out, you actively attempt to stay conscious, like during the wolf-pile. Malia watches you, seemingly confused and your transformation is hurting.

She reaches forward, smiling, touching your face, “Definitely not a wolf.”

You smile, but are instantly aware of how menacing it might seem with your teeth and close them. You point at yourself and she reaches into your pocket, grabbing your phone and taking a few pictures. You take the phone in your clawed hand and look, your eyes widen in shock and you look at Malia slightly confused.

“W-what?” She asked, suddenly concerned.

“Not wolf, fox.” You manage to say around your teeth. “I’m a fox.”

It takes a while, but you and Malia manage the night, you don’t even attempt to change back. You feel you’re already pushing the limit of supernatural ability. Malia seems to love the new found identity of your sub-species of were-creature, because she thinks that Coyote’s and Foxes are perfect together due to their trickster personalities. You don’t question her judgement, instead spending the night lying in her arms, waiting it out.

When you hear Lydia open the door, you scamper up the stair and start looking for Scott, demanding Lydia tell you where he is. You’re told about the dead pool, the Benefactor, and a werewolfs assassination, which immediately kills your happy mood.

“I’m a werefox.” You inform Lydia, “We took a picture when I transformed. I even stayed in control last night.”

Lydia seems to nod, “I’d thought so the other day when Scott and everyone else forced you to change. Your features seemed,” she pauses and smiles before winking, “foxy.”

You stop talking to Lydia after you get all the details of the dead pool, including the fact that you’re not actually on it, but every other supernatural thing, even Liam is. Which to you, is almost insulting, if you weren’t so thankful for it. Now though, now you need to find Scott.

* * *

“Scott, Scott, Scotty, Scott.” You call running throughout his house, Malia having stayed with Lydia, “I think I’m a fox.”

Scott walks out of his room and crashes into Stiles, both of them falling down. Scott stands up and offers a hand out to Stiles. “You’re not a Kitsune, Stiles, or a Nogitsune, we’ve been over this before. We expelled it from your body and-”

“No, no, werefox Scott. Like, my species of were-creature is fox.” Stiles say, taking Scott’s hand to help him stand up.

“But you don’t have an aura like Kira.” Scott says slowly, as if that changes your discovery.

“Fox, does not necessarily mean Kitsune. Kitsune are specifically Japanese foxes, with multiple tails, I’m talking a normal fox here Scott.” You rush, you think knowing your species is going to help you gain control and Scott’s being slow on the uptake.

“You’re telling me you’re possessed by an evil fox again? Cause I can’t do anything about that.”

Talking super slow on the uptake here. You want to scream, he’s being stupid again. “No, Scott, I’m saying I’m not a werewolf.”

“Then what are you?” He asks. You head-butt the wall right next to you.

“I’m. A. Werefox.” You say slowly, hoping he gets it this time.

Scott’s widen, “A fox.” Bingo. “You’re a werefox. Is that good? Are you still pack? You still feel like pack.” Again with the stupid.

You explain to him what happened last night, and your theory about why you’re having issues and Scott just nods, but when you finish he just says, “We should probably talk to Deaton.”

You head-butt the wall again.

* * *

You don’t know what Deaton hit you with, but it’s made you so happy and oh, you’re transforming. You hear Scott muttering, but don’t care what they’re saying, because everything is swirling about you. If this is what being high is, why aren’t you it all the time? You hear the words ‘fox’, ‘personality’ and ‘makes sense’, but don’t care for it, because you’re drawing patterns with your claws on the wall. That one is swirly, and that one cubey. Is cubey a word? You laugh, it is now. Cubey. You pronounce it out loud and giggle, cause your teeth screwed that up and made it sound weird.

Someone calls your name and you look at them, saying cubey again, and you see it’s Deaton, you tell him what a cool doc he is, because you don’t tell him enough. He needs to know. Then you mention the riddle you sovled, cause the riddle was your species, and your foxy. Giggle, foxy.

He tells you that wasn’t the riddle you needed to solve and you can’t help but pout, cause you don’t want any more riddles. Too many riddles ruin a good, a good, riddles are fun. Sphinxes tell riddles. So do foxes, oh you’re a fox. Foxes are so cute, you need Scott to know this, because wolves don’t like foxes, but Scott is dating a Japanese fox, so will he like you? You ask Scott, cause if he doesn’t like you anymore cause you’re a fox you might get super duper upset. Upset like, an upset thing. You don’t like being upset, because that’s not fun.

You’re being told to shut up so you try and stick your tongue out at them but your teeth get in the way, giggle, and hey is that someone new? Your eyes feel droopy, and you tell them, because the need to know this too. As you close your eyes you tell them that foxes are trickster, and tricksters come in many different personalities, and some of them suck. Like the one that killed Allison. You did that right?

Everyone in the room freezes and you open your eyes again, so you try to correct yourself, it wasn’t my fox that killed Allison, was a different fox. Bad fox. But still you. Giggle. That’s why you visit her grave. You remind yourself you’re bad.

You yawn and curl up in a ball. Not a _bad_ bad fox, but still a bad one. Foxes like rabbits. You’re hungry. You’re, you’re, sleep.

* * *

You never want to be high again, your head hurts, your eyes are pulsing and your body is aching like someone used you as a trampoline. On top of that, your body metabolizes things too quickly for pain killer to work, so you have to put up with it.  A plus side could be that you don’t feel too weak, and the pain is manageable.

Deaton appears with a light and shines it in your eyes, and you can’t help but yelp because he’s right in front of your face. You’re well aware that your yelp sounded more like a fox than humans, and you didn’t need Derek to tell you that.

Sitting up straight, you hear your back crack and let out a satisfying sigh as the tension leaves. “So, what is the verdict, doc?” You ask.

He smiles and says simply, “You’re not allowed to be high again.” You smirk and he continues, “Also, you seem to have a psychological issue when it comes to accessing your abilities. I can’t say more than that. The rest if for you to figure out.” You bite your lip, but nod. “You kids need to figure out this, and fight the Benefactor at the same time. Because I feel there is trouble brewing.”

You sigh, “Isn’t there always?”

* * *

At the game, your only focus is protecting Liam, because obviously they’re after him right? When the other kid falls mid-game, you realise you’re so wrong. Liam is like child-play, he’s not worth enough to focus on.

When you sense them attacking Scott, you run, you’re not watching Liam anymore. Your alpha is in trouble. The feeling stops in mere seconds though, but Scott’s still there so he won whatever was happening. You let out a small grunt, stand straight and smile. Safe, Scott’s safe.

* * *

Berserkers, stupid freaking berserkers, Kate and her stupid berserkers. Stupid Kate. Stupid Nogitsune. You throw that one in for sentimentalities sake, you haven’t cursed that guys name in a while. Ever since you excepted your ‘inner-animal’, the fox, a part of you thinks that a Nogitsune and Mrs. Yukimura’s Kitsune are like super awesome, and you have to remind yourself that a Nogitsune is bad, and Kira’s mom isn’t a Kitsune anymore. So instead it just looks up to Kira. A bit too much.

You feel it try and reach out to her, and have to actually smack your hand to remind yourself that touching your brother’s girlfriend is not only weird, but super creepy. Your fox always recoils after you scold it.

Anyway you got distracted, stupid berserkers, Kate’s getting super meddlesome, you wish you could just do that – no, bad fox, tricks are bad. Derek and Malia are following some lead on saving other werewolves, while you’re being dragged back to your worst nightmare. After having informed Parrish he’s worth a load of money, you’re going to Eichen House, and suddenly your fox is being silent for the first time since you accepted him. They’re just going to talk, to talk, oh God Brunski. He takes it upon himself to tell you all about the money you owe for the whole Nogitsune thing, and that’s the first time the fox has growled at the mention of the Nogitsune. It’s learning. You’re learning. This is too confusing. 

* * *

Scott’s found money, and you’re immediately reminded how much you owe to Eichen house, but Scott just hides it under your bed. You know it’s the best course of action, it’s technically evidence, but you’re broke, and you’re a fox. You could easily persuade Scott to give it to you. Bad thinking, you stop that line of thought, and resign to just sleeping.

 

Isaac finds you sleeping in Scott’s bed, and wakes you up, laughing at you. You ignore him, and just get up. Leave the house and get back to yours. Malia’s sitting on your bed, looking a little insulted.

“You didn’t come home last night.” She says, “I worried.”

You just nod, “I was at Scott’s.”

She pulls you down into a kiss, “I need to study, for the PSATs.” She growls.

“You’re not here to study though, are you?” You state, smirking at her. She smiles back, shaking her head. You kiss again, you end up on the bed, and you descend into the normal routine of groping, which descends into even more.

* * *

When the PSATs come round, Malia’s done a total of no studying and you’ve managed to learn how to control more of the transformation, however you’re still having black out occasionally, and you hate to think of why that’s happening.

The tests are on a Saturday, which would suck more, if you actually had anything to do on your weekends. School became less of a priority when you’d found out you were a fox and that your ability to talk, persuade and trick people into doing what you wanted had increased.

When the virus is released, you’re close to leaving. Like, you almost just grab Malia and run for it. You realise this is where foxes and wolves differ, because the only loyalty you have right now is to your mate, and yourself. Foxes run at the first sight of trouble, but the human side of you, that loves your brother and sister in Scott and Kira stays and helps.

When you’re the first to feel faint, you hide it, you lead everyone to the Hale vault, you finds out what the cure is, you almost get killed by the stupid ‘Chemist’ assassin while protecting your friends, and when you get to the vault you screams with all you have, because you feel sick to your stomach and it’s taking everything not to just pass out from the pain coursing through your body.

The Chemist had noticed you were dying, but also pointed out that you weren’t on the list so you weren’t a priority. You again had felt the insult of being ignored of the list of the supernatural, but figured it was probably a good thing in the scheme of things.

When the door to the vault opens, and Scott and Kira are walking out you allow the pain to take over. You wanted to run to Malia, you wanted to check she was okay, but you couldn’t even move. All your power drained, Scott yelled for Kira to grab the reishi tea, but you knew it was too late for that. Scott picked you up and carried you out of the school; you were still covered in the blood of a dead man. A man Scott’s shot, in front of you.

You’re in a car, being taken to Deaton’s, everything is blacking out, you hear snippets and manage to whisper out Malia’s name, but no one replies, so you try to say it louder. It gets caught in your throat as everything stops.

* * *

You catch bits and pieces, coming in and out of consciousness, things like ‘trying to lure him’, ‘Malia is with Peter’, and ‘Lydia found more’. You only focus on the searing pain in your body, you can hear screaming and you wonder who it is.

It’s not until when you actually wake up that you find out that screaming was Deaton purging the poison from your system. Being a were-creature sucks. You still really want that refund. The first thing you ask when you wake up is the where about of Malia, and they tell you she left, to find Peter.

Your heart sinks, and you feel the pull of the fox, it wants it’s mate back. You hear Deaton telling you to calm down, but you can’t. Malia’s with that sicko of a man, he’s going to hurt her, you want to kill him. 

Lydia is the one who manages to calm you down, she’s the one who held you down to die, she’s the one who can pull you back. She’s staring into your eyes, telling you that to kill Peter you’re going to need to be calm, which is of course true and your human side slaps the fox down telling it that to kill Peter they need to be cunning, not blinded by rage.

* * *

You managed to decode the rest of the dead pool with Lydia, and you’re pretty sure you’re going to use the nickname ‘Ariel’ as blackmail material for the rest of your life. Lydia knows this and passes you a glare, but you shrug, every best friend needs blackmail material.

She lets out a sigh, but your brain is working in overtime, and suddenly you’re rushing off to Eichen House again because you’ve figured it all out. Then you’re knocked out and tied up.

* * *

You never did like Brunski, and neither does your fox either, cause you’re both growling at him having trapped you.

Brunski chuckles lightly, “Looks like I’ve out foxed the fox.” You growl a little louder and try to struggle against your bindings, but nothing you do works, “Aw, is the little thing scared?”

“Try furious.” You growl, face transforming and fangs elongating. He plays the tape, you tell Lydia to stop, don’t listen, but all you get it a punch in the face and you yelp in pain. You feel weak, you can’t do anything, and you can feel the howl coming through your vocal cords, and Brunski punches you again in the stomach, cutting your howl short.

He goes to punch you again, but a shot rings in the air. You look to Parrish staring at you, and he recoils slightly, and you transform your features back. “Oh thank God.” He starts untying you and Lydia, when Meredith appears.

“He wasn’t on my list, but he was a very bad man.”

And then you connect all the dots.

* * *

You call Malia, because you can’t function without her, you just, you can’t. You apologize, you grovel, you beg, and she takes you back. The fox in you seems to revel in the returning of a mate, you’re just happy your girlfriend is back. At the boathouse you find the deadpool, hidden in the sound proof room, and you turn it off. Lives are in danger, and you rushed. But it works and all contracts are terminated and everyone is now safe. Safe and sound.

You were very happy, until you find out why the deadpool was activated, and when you find out it was because of when Lydia screamed for Allison you feel slightly sick to your stomach. You did this.

You caused Allison to be killed, which caused Lydia to scream, which caused the activation of a hit list, which caused so many more deaths. You promised no more people would die. Malia clutches you as you cry and howl in guilt, because it was meant to end. You weren’t meant to cause any more pain. Here you were again, causing more pain.

* * *

Deaton’s in a coma and you have no one to talk to about the stupid riddles again. And then there’s the stupid lacrosse game and Scott and Kira are late and you want to punch Isaac for being sarky. The last one is always part of your mood, but today it’s feeling particularly strong.

When you get a call from Lydia saying Scott’s been kidnapped, you drop the lacrosse stick and run. You don’t care; your alpha is in trouble. Liam watches you run for all of three seconds before following. You both hear coach screaming to come back, but continue running anyway.

* * *

They won’t let you go to Mexico. They’ll take the IED werewolf, but not the werefox. Malia looks at you and smiles sheepishly, of course there’s nothing that she can do. You suppose they do have a point. You’re prone to black outs on the full moon, at least they can aim Liam in one direction and hope for the best. You give Malia the advice to ignore Peter, and hope to God she takes it, before waving them all off.

Once they’ve actually left though, you jump into your jeep and drive. You maintain a safe distance, and once the moon comes up you just keep whispering to yourself, “Malia. Scott. Kira. Lydia. Derek. Liam. Dad.” The names of everyone in your pack over and over before focusing on three, “Malia, Scott, Lydia.”

Derek calls you about half an hour after the moons up, “Stiles, need some help with Liam.” You manage to breathe a little before reciting your mantra of three pack mates. “You alright, Stiles?”

“Just fine, what you tried? Mantra’s work well.” Malia. Scott. Lydia. “What can I do?”

“Alpha, Beta, Omega isn’t working, and I can’t think of anything else, and he’s too strong for me.”

“Malia. Scott. Lydia.” You say, ignoring Derek’s calling his name, “Try, what three things cannot be long hidden?” You rush quickly, slamming the phone shut and pushing your foot down to catch up.

You reach La Iglesia and a Berserker’s already hit them, Derek lays badly wounded, and you yelp as you jump out of the car to go help him. Heal. Why wasn’t he healing? He chuckles and waves you off, telling you he’ll be fine. He’s lying, you smell death on him, but he tells you they’ve all gone in and you need to follow.

“Malia. Scott. Lydia.” You whisper your anchors to yourself, and follow after the others. You run into Kira, she’s covered in blood, and looks to be in pain.

“It’s Scott, the Berserker is Scott.” She tells you, almost screaming. You look at her with wide eyes and shake your head.

“They’re going to kill them, they’re going to kill Scott.”

* * *

You make it just in time, to stop them all from killing him. Liam is managing to bring Scott back to himself and you just whisper, “Come on, Scotty.” The armour begins cracking.

Before you know it, Peter and Scott are fighting, with Scott overpowering Peter easily, and you’re upset you didn’t manage to think of it. The fox in you is applauding the cunning of Peter’s plan, and you growl at it. Malia looks at you weirdly but you shake your head. This was not something that you were going to tell anyone.

When Peter is overpowered you let yourself rest easier, your safe, people are safe. Properly safe.

* * *

You’re pretty certain you’re not safe, you’re pretty sure you’re still on Kate Argent’s personal hit list, because you did in all technicality kill Allison, but you try not to dwell on it. Kate’s disappeared, taking her berserkers with her, Peter’s locked up, and everything’s quiet. So you sit down for a little conversation with your fox.

You talk as you would to your subconscious, it’s hard to explain, but the fox offers only riddles and tricks as conversation starters. You let it know that you hate riddles; he tells you that you never stopped loving them. You say the Nogitsune had pretty much killed any love for riddles you had, the fox just laughs in reply. What comes down but doesn’t go up? He asks, you sigh, you hate this game. The rain. If I drink, I die, yet if I eat, I am fine, what am I? You gulp, a fire.

_Everyone has it, but no one can lose it._

You freeze in terror, you really freaking hate this riddle. No, you reply to the fox.

He laughs, that’s not the game, he’s telling you to play the game and answer the riddle.

_Everyone has it, but no one can lose it._

The fox keeps repeating it, getting louder and louder, and you’re terrified.

You scream at him, no, you’re not going to answer. The fox nods, approvingly, seemingly forming a body in front of you.

“That Nogitsune fellow missed out one thing in your psyche,” the fox tells you, “and he missed your determination. It’s where he failed. He would have been better off working _with_ you. That is where he made his lost pre destination.” The fox jumps into your lap, and you look at him in surprise, seeing his colours for the first time. He’s a beautiful golden colour and you smile. It reminds you of a, “Corsac fox. I am of course no real fox species, but if you were to picture me, this is the form you will see.” It was nice to know that your subconscious took the form of such a beautiful creature.

“I am your shadow now, Stiles. I am neither good nor evil; I have no goals other than to protect you. If we work in harmony, then we can successfully protect our den. As your shadow, you may use my powers whenever you wish; I only ask you stay true to your cunning self. Only with our successful harmony shall we succeed.” The fox stood up in your lap, placing either paw on either side of your shoulders, leaning its own head against yours, “If you stray from proper harmony with me, I will not hold back. I will protect our mate, and no one else.”

The fox leaped down, and disappeared into the darkness, “I’m your shadow, and you’re my body.”

You could feel the ability to control yourself return, your conversation officially ended. You could still feel the fox at the back of your mind, but it seemed more peaceful, as if sleeping or merely observing. You’d solved the riddle of yourself. Deaton would be proud.

You smile to yourself, letting the power ebb through you, fully in control of your sense for the first time in months you transformed and howled.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I thought about a Margay for Stiles’ were-animal, but to me, everything about Stiles continues to scream fox, a real fox avoids conflict, runs away from humans, and has a very small den that it will stay with. The most obvious thing was the trickster and cunning of the fox. Coyotes are tricksters as well, yet lack the cunning. Margay’s are cunning and tricky, but a species of leopard, and dogs and cats don’t tend to get along. Here I chose fox and my reasoning I feel is sound. Kitsune is the Japanese word for fox, but in the supernatural lore of the show I think it means specifically Japanese foxes with multiple tails, I’d go into more detail of all of the research, coming from Chinese folklore etc. but that’s not worth it here. I’m separating Kitsune’s from foxes, even Kira does in season 4, when Liam says fox she corrects to Kitsune. Were-foxs are still totally legitimate to me.  
> Sorry, this is unbeta'd, will return to beta eventually, but there were 16 pages too many for editing.  
> I also feel I rushed season 4 a bit, because I wanted it to be slightly canon, and kept to the story with necessary changes to suit were-Stiles.  
> Also, if people like it enough, and I gain any inspiration, I'm very happy to do some more/mini one shots.  
> Started at 2:30pm, finished and posted at 10:30pm


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